The Long Run
by I am Number 5
Summary: Now that Emil was here, he wanted that gold medal more than anything. He also wanted to make out with that boy from Hong Kong, and the two were flirting with each other so often that it might actually happen.


**Summary:** Now that Emil was here, he wanted that gold medal more than anything. He also wanted to make out with that boy from Hong Kong, and the two were flirting with each other so often that it might actually happen.

**Warnings:** Attempted sabotage in the Olympics

**Pairings:** Hongice, Dennor, Sufin

**Spoilers:** None

**Characters:** Emil Steilsson (Iceland), Kaoru Wang (Hong Kong), Lukas Bondevik (Norway), Eindís (OC), mentions of Sweden, Finland, Denmark, China, and Japan

**Word Count:** ~3,959

**Notes:** Based off this post. I didn't really make them rivals, sorry. These Olympics aren't in Sochi, by the way. I also have poor understanding of how figure skating works in the Olympics, so please don't hit me.

* * *

Many had told Emil that he had a natural talent for figure skating. It was as if he was born to do this; to jump and twirl and swerve on the ice like his life depended on it. All those days spent skating on the frozen pond behind his house in the winter, and in the public ice rink every other season of the year. All those long, grueling practices, the bruises, pulled muscles and sprains, the achievements and the let-downs had all been worth it. The evenings where he'd sit alone on the ice after falling or messing up and cry tears of frustration into his knees seemed so long behind him. The days at school when he would be taunted and called a fairy didn't even matter anymore. Many would never believe that he had pretty much taught himself to skate, but it was true. While his father was out working, and generally being absent throughout Emil's life, Emil was training himself to the best of his ability.

It had been one day when he was practicing at the public rink that he had met Eindís.

"Your form is beautiful," she had told him. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen," Emil had answered shyly, digging the toe of his skate into the ice.

"Who is your coach?"

"I don't have one. Never did."

The old woman looked surprised. "Never?" Emil nodded. She crossed her boney arms over her chest and looked at him thoughfully. "Would you like to have one?"

When he nodded, she smiled. "Well, I would be happy to teach you."

Eindís had coached Emil for two and a half years, and she still did. He had listened raptly to her every word, worked harder than he ever did when he was alone. She was kind, but assertive, and always comforted him when he needed it. Her teachings had only helped him improve even more.

He hadn't wanted to enter any competitions. He only skated for fun. But Eindís had conned him into entering a competition being held in Reykjavik. At age sixteen, he was one of the youngest to compete. In all honesty, it had terrified him. After all, his father had shown up, and his mother and older brother Lukas had come all the way from Norway to watch him compete. He had skated to the best of his ability, made the barest stumble after a jump, and finished with a wide grin on his face. He received a standing ovation that nearly made him burst into joyful tears. His family was cheering the loudest. They had looked so…proud. But nobody had been more proud than Eindís, he believed. She didn't applaud, didn't cheer. Just smiled at him and nodded. That was all the confirmation he needed.

He came in second place.

And suddenly, he became a bit of a public figure in his town. Suddenly everyone who tormented him at school wanted to be his friend. Suddenly the world seemed to care about his passion for skating, as opposed to before the competition, when no one gave a damn.

But he pushed those people away, continued to focus on skating. He allowed himself to be entered into more competitions in Iceland, four to be exact. He came third once, second once, and first twice. His sixth competition happened a week after his seventeenth birthday, in Stockholm, Sweden. It was a much bigger competition. People from many different countries were competing this time. People from Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Finland, the Netherlands, Germany, Belgium, and England. He was one of the three Icelanders competing. He didn't expect to win anything, much less get into the top twenty. But, like in his other competitions, he skated his heart out, put every bit of energy into his performances, and didn't stumble once.

Northern Europe received quite the shock when a seventeen year old Icelander, who seemed to have no chance, snuck his way up in the ranks and came in first place in the competition. Suddenly the blood, sweat and tears Emil had shed had been so worth it in the long run. Suddenly he was famous all over YouTube and Tumblr, receiving kind and encouraging comments by the bucketful. That was when it was suggested to him to tryout for the Olympics.

He had at first laughed and shook his head, stating that he could never compete with so many countries. He was only in it for the experience, after all. But many stated that Emil would be perfect for the Olympics. And though he tried to deny it, he longed to at least try.

Eindís helped him sign up, helped choreograph his routine, worked him to the bone until Emil was completely confident in himself. She stressed the fact that he needed to trust in himself, in his skills, or else he would get absolutely nowhere. When the day of the trials came, Emil went in with his heart in his throat and his ribcage feeling like it was tightening in on his lungs.

At hearing the news that he had passed into the Olympics, Emil covered his face and cried tears of joy into his hands.

At hearing that his older brother had made it into the Olympics as a ski jumper, Emil nearly punched him in the face for not telling him beforehand.

* * *

There were only four athletes from Iceland. Emil suddenly understood what it felt like to walk out during the Opening Ceremonies when from a small country; foreign, a little embarrassed at the lack of applause being received, unlike from other countries like the U.S.A. and Canada.

But he waved the tiny Icelandic flag with pride, until he felt a hand reach into his pocket to grab his phone. Bjorni, one of the downhill skiers, opened the camera and pointed it at him.

"Smile!"

Emil panicked for a moment, before throwing his hands up and giving an excited face. The other athletes laughed and Bjorni took the picture before handing the phone back.

"Never get rid of that, you hear?" He told him. "Post it on the internet so you don't lose it. That will end up being one of the most important pictures you will ever have."

Emil nodded, smiling a little. "Sure thing."

When he and his fellow athletes were seated in the stands, his brother came out with the Norwegian athletes. And, after making their way around, Lukas shuffled through the crowd to where Emil was sitting and put his arm around him, holding his phone out in front of them.

"For the public," he explained. "They'll love it."

Shaking his head, Emil smiled for the picture.

Both pictures were posted online, and they both went viral.

* * *

Men's figure skating didn't start yet, so Emil had a few days to practice his routines. Eindís, though she was adamant that he practice as much as he can without wearing himself out, insisted that he take a break and go watch his brother in his competitions.

Most of the time, Emil watched with Lukas' Danish boyfriend Matthias (a snowboarder), his and Lukas' Swedish cousin Berwald (a speed skater), and Berwald's husband Tino. When Lukas came in first place, the blond man made a beeline for the edge of the stands where they were, and pulled his family close, quite a rare act for him, being the stoic that he tended to be. He had his moments, however, like when he had just won a gold medal.

He held Emil for a while longer, rocking back and forth.

"Congratulations," Emil whispered. "I'm really proud of you…"

"Call me big brother," Lukas stated. "Come on, just once. I deserve it."

Emil groaned and pressed his forehead against his older brother's shoulder. "Way to ruin the moment, Luke."

"_Please_?"

The pale-haired boy sighed. "Fine. Congratulations, _stóri bróðir_."

"Takk, lillebror."

"Þú ert svo rassinn. Go get your medal, du rumpe."

Watching his older brother get a gold medal made Emil's heart flutter with pride. Matthias had his arm around his shoulder, watching with love and pride in his eyes and a gentle smile on his lips. He had never seen the energetic man so calm before.

Lukas had come down after the ceremony and shown them his medal, and on the way back, stated to Emil that "don't worry, you'll have one by the end of this too". Emil hadn't believed him, but couldn't help but hope that he would be right.

If Emil was nervous at his first competition, the Olympics was nothing compared to it. His heart was pounding rapidly, he was on the verge of hyperventilating until Eindís sat in front of his and placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Emil," she whispered softly. "You aren't going to mess up. You aren't. You are going to move through into the top thirty. You are going to win a medal even if I have to kill a man to make it happen."

"I don't think that would be the smartest thing to do," Emil snorted despite himself.

She chuckled. "Still, you have nothing to be worried about. You are going to be fine. Your brother is watching, your parents are watching, and even though the entire world is watching too, they don't matter. Your family matters. Make them proud. Make me proud."

Emil licked his chapped lips and nodded. She kissed him on the cheek and stood to go to her designated seat. Another boy sat down a little ways away to put his skates on. Emil sat back against the wall and let his eyes wander to the boy's face.

He was Asian, obviously, with flippy brown hair, rich brown eyes and thick eyebrows. His face was completely blank, and it reminded him of his brother in a way. He was short, small but muscular judging from the muscles in his biceps and thighs. He looked around Emil's age, to be honest.

He was really pretty, he decided.

* * *

Kaoru Wang decided that the Icelandic figure skater was really pretty. Truly. He was the prettiest person he'd ever seen in his life. He didn't even know that he found pale people attractive, especially this guy, who was the epitome of pale; pale skin, pale hair, pale eyes, even his outfit was as white at his skin tone. But he was really pretty, and goddamn, he was a fantastic skater.

Though he had schooled his expression into the cool, stoic one he'd always had, he couldn't keep his eyes off of that boy. He caught himself drooling a tiny bit as well. Ew. Not cool.

That boy's scores were up. One of the highest scores given so far, odd given the fact that everyone knew that the judging system in figure skating is terribly biased and people tended to pick favourites. But this boy had one of the highest scores, and was going forth into the top thirty.

By the end of the night, Kaoru had also made it into the top thirty. He couldn't help but hope that he would get the chance to talk to that Icelandic boy. Or to at least learn his name.

* * *

The next day, Emil continued to practice even harder than before, though not enough to tire himself out completely. Making it into the long program had been the biggest shock of his life, and now he had to push himself even more if he wanted that gold medal.

To think that a few years ago, he had been a nobody who had been terribly bullied and neglected and practiced all alone on a frozen pond, with no hopes of getting into something like the Olympics. He skated because he loved skating, and that would always remain the same. Even if he didn't win, even if he came in last place, at least he would be able to say that he went to the Olympics at seventeen.

On one particular day, Emil was packing up his gear and preparing to head back to the Olympics Village when someone tapped his shoulder. He turned and found himself facing the Asian boy from before, who also made it into the long program. Kaoru Wang, he had learned his name was, from Hong Kong.

"Hi," he greeted in accented English. "Did you…need something?"

"No," Kaoru answered. "I wanted to, like, talk to you."

"Oh."

Silence fell over the two for a brief moment, before Kaoru spoke again. "I saw you skate the other day. You were amazing."

"Thank you," Emil blinked in surprise. "That…that really means a lot. You were amazing too."

"Thanks. Um…I was wondering if you wanted to, like, hang out?"

Emil was taken aback. "Aren't we supposed to be rivals or something?"

Kaoru shrugged noncommittally. "To other people, I guess, but I don't really care about that stuff. I just kinda…want to get to know you."

"Oh…okay. What do you want to do?"

On the days leading up to the first performance, Emil and Kaoru grew to become good friends. Quite a few assumed that one of the two were attempting to sabotage the other, or both were attempting to sabotage each other. Rumours of the two being in a rivalry were spread throughout the Olympic Village and beyond. Emil thought it was ridiculous, and Kaoru did too, but they both found it amusing more than anything. They paid the naysayers no mind, and continued on.

They both breezed through the free skating final, both receiving oddly high scores when they were competing with much bigger countries with more skill in the sport. But they honestly weren't going to complain. They skated to the best of their abilities, and their families and coaches praised and supported them throughout the process.

As the final approached, Emil found that whenever he was around Kaoru, his heart would begin to flutter. It was strange, something he didn't quite understand. He couldn't possibly be falling for him…could he? What wasn't to like? Kaoru was witty and pleasant to be around, though it was at time difficult to tell what was on his mind, due to his tendency to remain blank in expression. But Emil was starting to realize that he might be developing feelings for someone he had met only days ago. And after the Olympics were over, they would go back to their hometowns and most likely never see each other again.

Joy.

The day of the final was possibly the most nerve-wracking day of Emil's life. He had woken up and immediately thrown up from sheer nerves. Lukas had to force him to get dressed and drag him out of the room.

"You are going to go out there and get that medal, Emil. You have nothing to worry about."

Emil paid the statement no mind, because how in the hell could he possible win a medal with all the opponents he had? From Russia, the U.S.A, Canada? He stood no chance.

"Emil."

The boy turned to look at his coach, who took his hands in hers and cradled them gently.

"I'm an old woman, Emil. You and I both know this. I have been coaching in figure skating for close to forty years now. I have seen many win, and many lose, but all of them had talent. Every figure skater is talented. But…in all the years I have taught this sport, I have never met a person with as much natural talent as you, Emil. You have a gift. A very special gift that I have never seen in anyone else. It doesn't matter if you win or not. What I want you to do is to go out there and skate like you've never skated before. Alright? If you fall, that's okay. Just do your best, and you'll be satisfied. Ja?"

Emil smiled and hugged his coach tightly. "Ja."

Kaoru had already skated, and received a final score of 212.09, putting him in first place. Emil had seen him in the Kiss and Cry, hugging his coach (who happened to be his older brother Yao) and looking to be nearly in tears. It had been the most emotion Emil had ever seen on his face.

Now it was his turn.

"Emil Steilsson, Iceland."

He received quite a bit of applause as he slid onto the ice towards the middle of the rink. He easily went into position, waiting patiently for the music to begin. At the first sound of the familiar trio of violins, he was off.

He twisted and spun wonderfully, his spins were perfect, and he landed his first jumps perfectly as well. It was going just as planned.

* * *

Kaoru could not take his eyes off Emil. He was completely entranced. The routine had no flaw at all as far as the eye could see.

He watched as Emil took his third jump, and he landed perfectly…or so he thought. The moment he landed, it seemed as if his skate slipped on a banana peel, causing Emil to tumble and land on his side, sliding back until he hit the boards. The crowd gave a collective "oohhhhh" as they watched with bated breath.

Kaoru stood up from his seat and watched as Emil lay there, unmoving, until he rolled onto his front and onto his feet again. It was obvious that he wasn't continuing the routine, and was going to talk it out with the officials. But he noticed something odd about the boy's costume; it was soaking wet. It definitely wasn't sweat, because it covered his right side, and his pants.

Emil couldn't have slipped at the last second; he had landed perfectly. What was going on?

A voice erupted over the speakers. He didn't catch most of what was said, too occupied with watching Emil, but did catch the words 'investigation' and 'possible sabotage'. As Emil stepped off the ice to see his coach, the Hong Konger eyed the people examining the area where his friend had fallen. They obviously discovered the source quickly, and the officials stated that Emil would be given until the last performance to recover from the fall, and then given the chance to redo his routine.

Perfect.

Later, he would discover that water had been poured onto the ice intentionally. He didn't care about who did it. He just wanted them to be caught.

* * *

The redo had turned out perfectly. The jump that Emil had slipped on had been landed perfectly, and applause had nearly brought the roof down. He honestly believed that he had done the routine even better than the first time before he fell. Emil had been terrified that he would be finished after that fall. He didn't even care about how badly it had hurt – even though it hurt really badly – he was briefly terrified that he had broken or sprain something and would never be able to skate again. But a doctor had looked at it and stated that his entire right side and part of his right arm would be quite bruised, but he would be fine otherwise.

Now, as he sat in the Kiss and Cry, clutching Eindís' hand for dear life, he just hoped that he had made an impact. Even the smallest of impacts would be fine with him. He didn't care if he didn't win a medal. Besides, if he didn't, Kaoru would get the gold, which was pretty awesome too. He deserved it, since the Hong Konger had been training in figure skating since he was around four or five years old.

"The score please for Emil Steilsson, representing Iceland."

Emil focused his gaze on his skates as he tried his best to refrain from holding Eindís' fragile hand too tightly.

"He has earned 104 points."

Emil's head shot up and saw the score board. He had 218.56 points. He was in first. He…he won the gold medal.

He sprung to his feet and took his coach into his arms, hugging her as tight as he dared. He was crying now, thanking her repeatedly in smatterings of English and Icelandic. The moment he pulled away, he was yanked into the familiar arms of his older brother, quickly followed by Matthias, Berwald and Tino. Almost all of them were crying tears of joy, mostly Tino and Matthias, but Lukas looked to be on the verge of tears.

"I told you," he stated knowingly. "Didn't I?"

Emil shook his head and beat his fist against Lukas' shoulder. "Whatever, du rumpe."

When they released him to let him breathe, he saw Kaoru standing off to the side. Knowing his brothers were watching intently, he approached his friend and was pleasantly surprised when he was pulled into the boy's arms.

"Congrats, Emmy," Kaoru joked. "I had a feeling you would win."

"But…" Emil stuttered. "I thought you wanted the gold."

"I did, but you deserved it. Besides, silver is pretty damn awesome too."

With a content smile, Emil hugged him tighter. "Yeah, it is."

The Medal Ceremony had been one of the most emotional moments of Emil's life. Stepping onto the middle podium, in first place, had nearly made him burst into tears alone. The Japanese skater named Kiku was awarded the bronze medal first, and then Kaoru was award the silver medal. And finally, Emil was awarded the gold medal.

He held it up to his face gently, as if it would shatter easily, and felt tears leak from his eyes that he quickly wiped away. No way was he going to cry on national television again. He watched as the Icelandic flag, for the first time, was raised in first place, while Lofsöngur began to play through the speakers.

For the first time in history, Iceland has won its very first gold medal, and its first medal in the Winter Olympics. Emil had certainly made history, alright.

After the three medalists posed for pictures wearing the medals, the three stepped off the ice and made a beeline for their families. Emil nearly charged towards his own and jumped into his brother's arms, not even caring that there were cameras pointed at them and that people were watching them all over the world. He needed this moment more than anything. He barely registered the others hugging them as well, so wrapped up in the adrenaline rush he was experiencing at the moment.

When it was time to leave, Emil went to the locker room to pack up his things, knowing that Kaoru was following him. Before he could catch himself, the Icelander turned around and blurted,

"I need to tell you something."

Kaoru raised a thick eyebrow. "Okay. What is it?"

Realizing his mistake, Emil blushed. "Uh…I just, I mean, I wanted to tell you that-"

"That you have the hots for me?"

Emil flushed even redder and pressed his back against the wall. "Uh…"

"It's okay, I already knew. You aren't that good at being subtle, you know."

The Icelander covered his face in embarrassment. "Good to know, Kaoru."

Said boy placed a hand on his cheek, making him look up into the other's eyes. Kaoru slowly leaned in and whispered. "It's okay. I, like, totally have the hots for you too."

"O-oh? Really?"

Without giving a reply, Kaoru leaned further inwards until their mouths were pressed together. It was chaste, slow, but the best first kiss Emil could have ever asked for. He also brought a hand up and slowly carded it through the other's brown locks, keeping it on the back of his head to encourage him. When they pulled away, they stared into each other's eyes for a moment before separating completely, realizing that their families were probably waiting for them.

"W-will you go out with me?" Emil stuttered.

"When?"

"Uh…tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Definitely."

* * *

_Stóri bróðir – Icelandic – big brother_

_Takk – Norwegian – Thank you_

_Lillebror – Norwegian – Little brother_

_Þú ert svo rassinn – Icelandic – You're such a butt_

_Du rumpe – Icelandic – you butt_

_Ja – Icelandic – Yeah_


End file.
